Born To Die: A Dark Paradise
by mismarymack
Summary: I was inspired by the song "Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey, hence the title. Dean Winchester O/C. The story picks up shortly after Dean makes a deal S.3. In the sleepy, friendly town of Dorset, Vermont, things have been taking a turn for the worst, and only Helena Caswell can see that it's only going to get worse, open up to Chapter 1 to read the rest of the summary. leave a comment!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** I was inspired by the song "Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey, hence the title. Dean Winchester O/C. The story picks up shortly after Dean makes a deal... S.3. In the sleepy, friendly town of Dorset, Vermont, things have been taking a turn for the worst, and only Helena Caswell can see that it's only going to get worse. With the powers of "perception" she can see what's to come for her town- if only she had the power to stop it. Meanwhile Sam and Dean rush to stop whatever is terrorizing Dorset's citizens, but quickly discover that what's happening in Dorset may just be the beginning of something larger and more sinister...

_ * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * _

_Calm the fuck down, Helena._ It's happening again... and in the middle of class. The room is darkening, just like the day does before it rains. From the corners of the room, a mist is developing, and the faces of my classmates are beginning to... transform...

"Ellen, are you ready to present?"

The writing teacher is looking at me. He's called me Ellen all year, and each time, I've told him it was Helena... Nevermind the fact that school is 2 weeks from being over and he hasn't taken the time to learn my name by now... asshole...

"Yes... now?"

Mr. Jackass smiles and tilts his chin up, "I believe now would be the appropriate time," he motions me towards the front of the class.

_What a fucking asshole! 'I believe now would be the appropriate time', what a pretentious piece of-_

"Crap, you know what? I left my notes in my locker, can I go get them? They're just around the corner,"

Mr. Jackass nods, "You may. Do it promptly."

I rise from my seat, smile politely at Mr. Jackass and 'promptly' skedaddle the fuck out of that classroom and towards the school front doors, out the school and sprint home.

* 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 *

"Where's my bacon cheeseburger?"

"It's in the bag,"

Dean fumbles with the bag and finds a cheeseburger... with some fries, "I'm looking in the bag and it's not here, dude, where's my bacon cheeseburger?"

Sam puts down his wrap and strides towards the kitchen, "Dean, it's in there. See?" He holds up the cheeseburger.

"What part of BACON cheeseburger do you not understand?" Dean takes the burger and tosses it on the counter.

"Wow, can you just eat your cheeseburger and read the article I told you to read three hours ago?"

"Dammit, Sam, I work my ass off and I've got less than a year to live, would it kill you to get my order right? Give me a summary: what's the article about?"

Sam sighs, "Crazy things are happening in Dorset, Vermont."

* 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 *

On the other side of the door, I can hear my parents arguing about what to do with me. I've definitely put a dent in their marriage, no question. A girl with _'schizophrenic tendencies' _can put a damper in any relationship... schizophrenia- I wish...

No.

What I have is much, much worse. What I have can't be cured with today's medication or treated with therapy or support groups. And I can't control it either...

Ever since I can remember, I've been able to see 'tears' between planes: our world... and a not so good place... Some would call this place hell, I have no idea what to call it, but when "things" escape from the tears of this other plane, very not so good things happen and all I know for sure is that the farther I am away from these tears, the less it affects me and the people I care about...

Lately, I've been seeing more and more tears. All around town and in some surrounding towns, there have been random strings of murders, but all similar: friends killing friends, people killing their co-workers, family members killing each other. All the murders end with suicide, the murderers kill themselves.

All I can do is run and hide.

* 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 *

"So you think some monster is running loose on the town's people?"

"Well, what else could it be?"

Dean shrugs, "I don't know, what's Dorset's usual crime rate?"

"Extremely lower than the country's crime rate, it's a small population, high income town,"

"So we'll look at some of the town's urban legends and see what sticks, maybe read up on any murders that happened in the past,"

Sam furrows his brows, recognizing Dean's tone "And by 'we' you mean me, right?"

"You know it, little brother," Dean smiles as the black 1967 Chevy Impala coasts by a sign welcoming drivers to Dorset.

* 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 *

I wake up the next morning, it's a Saturday- thank god- and I catch a glimpse of the news on the television.

_"Local police are investigating the murder of Dorset local, Lisa Almiron, that occurred late last night. The police have not released much information surrounding the case, but it is alleged that her husband, Charles Almiron, a well respected pillar of the Dorset community and teacher at Long Trail High School, has not been able to be located for questioning. Eyewitness 12 news reports."_

Shit.

"Wasn't that you're writing teacher, honey?" My mom hands me a cup of hot coffee, one sugar and tons of milk- just the way I like it.

"Yeah, I can't believe it. I feel bad for his family, "

I wasn't lying, I did feel bad for Mr. Jackass and his family. Even though Mr. Jackass was a pretentious prick, he didn't deserve what happened to him. No one does.

It's those "things" though, I'm sure of it. From the tears. It's no coincidence.

* 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 * 8 *

Dean fumbles uncomfortably out of bed and struggles getting into his baggy jeans "Can you believe how much it costs to stay here? Maybe we should just sleep in the car, it's ridiculous here,"

Sam shushes him when something catches his eye on the television, "Listen to this"

_ "Local police are investigating the murder of Dorset local, Lisa Almiron, that occurred late last night. The police have not released much information surrounding the case, but it is alleged that her husband, Charles Almiron, a well respected pillar of the Dorset community and teacher at Long Trail High School, has not been able to be located for questioning. Eyewitness 12 news reports."_

"Sounds like a monster to me,"

"Don't be so sure, I've been doing some reading-"

"Already? Didn't you get any sleep at all last night?"

"Dean, this thing, whatever it is, it's moving fast. In the past 3 months there have been 3 unsolved murders in Dorset alone, now 4. In the surrounding towns: six total. This thing is striking quick. We have to move quicker."

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch, what did you find out?"

"Nothing, that's what's freaking me out. There hasn't been a murder here in ten years, and that murder was actually a murder in the 3rd degree. No urban legends, no freak accidents, nothing. I don't think it's a monster, Dean."

"Shit," Dean takes a moment, "How much holy water do we have to work with?"


	2. Chapter 2

I just want to dedicate this chapter to my first follower of this story: KimchixBurger. Thanks so much, I really appreciate your support. For this chapter, I was inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Blue Jeans".

*O*

I knew what would come next, the same thing that happened with the other murders. Suicide. My uncle Greg is chief of police here in Dorset- he would be the first to know anything for sure, and he was the first I would talk to on Sunday, in his office.

"I'm just concerned, that's all. Everyone is. The murders are all anyone can talk about at school. I just want to give the kids some information and reassurance,"

_Just like I had rehearsed. _

"I understand, Helena, but you understand that this is a new case that we are investigating. Hell, it's only been open for 2 days," Uncle Greg is swiveling in his chair from behind his desk- which is over flowing with manila folders and papers.

I grill him, "Is there any new developments? Can you connect this murder with the others? Any patterns at all?"

"No, there's nothing that I can give you to publish," He is motioning to stand, which would have been my queue to leave but then I ask one last question, something I know he has to answer.

"Is there anything that I should know? Off the record, of course,"

Uncle Greg sighs, rubbing his brow anxiously, "If I find this in your school news paper, I could lose my job- I have a boss too, you know," he takes a breath," Anyways, off the record, there is a pattern. We're pretty sure it's the same sick bastard going around. I'm telling you this so you can be careful, keep yourself safe, keep a watch over your friend there, Luke, or whatever. This guy's a real creep, and I'm pretty sure the FBI is getting involved because this is just getting out of hand."

I nod, and I have to ask, "Is Mr. Almiron dead?"

Greg stands up and nods- almost unnoticeably and motions me towards the door, "Tell me if you see anything suspicious. Be careful, bug."

So the things must have gotten to Mr. Almiron at school, when I saw the tears.

Shit.

I am completely lost in thought when I bump into two men in suits. They must be made out of stone because it really hurt, "Ow!"

"Careful, there-uh young lady," the taller one stumbles.

"S-sorry," I stammer, these guys must be FBI. I smile politely and make my way home.

*O*

"I can't believe we actually have to wait," Dean loosens his tie, "The FBI never waits."

Sam attempts to peer into the office, "The receptionist said he was meeting with family. Family comes first to the chief, I guess."

"First before the FBI? Ahead of a murder investigation? I don't think so."

Sam takes a map of the town of Dorset and begins circling where each murder occurred. Dean leans over to notice the receptionist, he hadn't noticed her before.

Early 30's, a beautiful pair of green eyes and a very nice rack. He was just considering getting her number when he notices Sam doodling on the map.

"Hey, maybe try connecting them," Dean examines the circled areas.

"How?"

"Just give me it- look," he takes a pen and carefully draws a line from each of the sites of the murders, "It's an arrow head,"

Sam chuckles, "I think we're missing something,"

"He'll be ready in just a few minutes," the receptions calls from behind her desk.

Sam fixes his jacket and leans over to Dean, who is fixing his tie, "Can you be the rookie this time? I'm always the rookie,"

"Hey, how about when I'm dead, you don't have to be the rookie," Dean grins.

"That's not funny."

"Oh, come on, it's a little funny"

Just then a small girl walks directly into the pair.

"Ow!" she shrieks.

Sam grabs the girls elbow to keep her steady, "Careful, there-uh young lady."

Dean shoots him a look.

"S-sorry," the girl stutters and scurries off.

Sam looks at Dean who is still staring at him, "What?"

" 'Young lady'? Could you sound any creepier?"

*O*

"Damn. Serial killer, huh? That sucks,"

" 'That sucks'? That's what you have to say?" I grin at Elijah, and take a bite of my wrap.

He laughs, "Yeah, it sucks. School's almost over, and now all summer we have to look out for a crazy killer guy. That's no fun."

I gulp down my wrap, "I'll watch your back if you watch mine,"

"Oh, you don't have to tell me to watch your back, in fact a lot of boys watch your back. And Matt's been watching your back since preschool, or so he tells me,"

I sip my lemonade, "Ugh, you tell Matt to stay the hell away from me," I giggle, "and to keep his eyes away too,"

"Sure, I'll text him now,"

"Don't you dare!"

"Hey, look at those guys, tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum," Elijah glances over at two strangers walking into the restaurant.

"Wait, I recognize those guys."

Elijah furrows his eyebrows together, "Really? From where?"

"At the police department, this morning when I was meeting my uncle. They were there. I thought they were FBI, but now, I'm not so sure. They were in suits before."

Elijah nudges my elbow, "Well, Jesus, Helena, they could be off duty."

I nod slowly, pulling my eyes away, "Yeah, sure."

*O*

"I'm telling you, it's a sign, or something," Dean is re-examining the map again.

Sam is reading the menu, "It's not a sign that I have ever seen. Dude, it looks like an arrow-head, that's nothing."

"Since when is 'something' ever 'nothing'," Dean looks up from the map.

"Whatever."

Dean pulls out his phone and begins comparing the upside-down arrow head drawing to symbols: egyptian, greek, roman, satanic...

Someone catches Sam's eye, "Hey, didn't we see that girl at the police department?"

Dean looks up, "Oh yeah, that's that girl you almost leveled. You should go talk to her."

"Why?"

"Well, you noticed her, you guys obviously had a connection," Dean teases, "and she's easy on the eyes, and everything else by the looks of it," he added as he continued looking at her.

Sam rolled his eyes, "If you like her so much, why don't you go talk to her."

"Fine, I will."

*O*

"Don't look now, but one of those guys is making his way over here," Elijah grins and takes a gulp of his soda.

"What?"

"I said don't look!"

Elijah was right, one of the FBI agents was walking in between tables towards me and Elijah.

"What do I do?"

"Just act normal."

I take a breath, and the agent is there. He is smiling at me, acknowledges Elijah, and then looks back at me, "Hi, I just couldn't help noticing that we had met earlier,"

"Yes, that was me,"

_'That was me'_? Really? Not _"Oh you noticed me, did you."_ or _"I noticed you too"_ or something sexy or sultry... I'm screwed...

"That was you- good, because this would have been awkward if you weren't you," the agent smiles at me, showing off his white teeth... he has a very nice smile...

"Yeah, very awkward," Elijah adds, he is trying so very hard not to burst laughing.

I kick Elijah under the table, "Yes, I can imagine," I attempt to be sexy by tossing a stray hair behind my shoulder. I fail, " Well, what could I do for you? You must be very busy, being a FBI agent and all."

The agent's grin widens. I'm hoping it's because he's charmed and not that he wants to burst into laughs like Elijah, "I was hoping you could tell me, agent Drew, and my partner, agent Starling, a little more about the town."

Agent Drew, like Nancy Drew...Agent Starling? Like "Silence of The Lambs"; Clarisse Starling? What the hell...

"Yeah, sure."

"There's brochures in town hall," Elijah interjects. I kick Elijah again, harder.

"I understand, but there's nothing like a human touch," agent Drew smiles at me and offers me help outside of my booth.

I really don't think these guys are FBI, impersonators maybe. Maybe I could do a bit of investigating myself...


End file.
